The Tales of GrandOldLand #4: The Partnership of Pandoria

Citizen: We waited too long under British Columbia's rule!

Soldier: Shut it, civilian, great planning had to be done.

(Every single person hushes as a man cloaked in silvery robes walks down from his throne)

Robe Dude: How dare you quarrel in the middle of a national ritual! I, Pope Maple IV of GrandOldLand, hereby declare you banned from this square!

(The two walk out, in a trance of disbelief of sadness)

Pope: Our leader....our friend...our hero. GrandOldMan accomplished many things in his multi-century lifetime. However, the Gods see his potential to achieve full Humanist control, and they have given him the greatest challenge yet. In a week of great hardships known as the Leondapou, he will suffer unbelievably on a island that has only been seen by those who have experienced the same. These are thirteen previous people, all of whom are dead. Only one made it back alive, who became the first Grandese Pope, but that was very long ago and he passed away. Another two later people were already Popes, but they couldn't overcome the challenges. It is expected that I too may one day be sent to the island, but this is a day to hope for GrandOldMan. Let us sing a national song: Throto Malleft si 'Daiys!

Crowd (Slowly talking louder): 

It has finally happened,

And now I'm being beckoned,

Straight into death,

It just seems to go like this

(Quiet and then louder again)

Three days left,

Three days to get life right,

Throto malleft si 'daiys,

Three days to draw my line

My time is short,

My stride is long,

Oh would you please just help me sing this song,

Help me believe that I ain't done wrong

It was just decades ago,

I was a small child,

Always causing trouble,

Acting O' way too wild

(Pause and now quiet until Chorus)

I'm trying to stay-ay strong,

Oh would you please just help me sing this song,

Help me believe that I ain't done wrong

'Cause I just got three days left,

Three days to get life right,

Throto malleft si 'daiys,

Three days to draw my line

My time is short,

My stride is long,

Oh would you please just help me sing this song,

Help me believe that I ain't done wrong

It was just years ago,

My country called out,

"GrandOldLand is great",

All the people started to scream and shout

(Pause and now quiet)

I'm trying to k-kuh-keep hope on,

Oh would you please just help me sing this song,

Help me believe that I ain't done wrong

(Super quiet until last line of Chrous))

<b>'Cause I got three days left,

Three days to get life right,

Throto malleft si 'daiys,

Three days to draw my line</b>

My time is short,

My stride is long

(Fades out)

Throto,

Malleft,

Si 'daiys

(Crowd hysterically cries before each using hands to draw the official religious symbol. This looks like the center of the Grandese flag shown below)

(Several squadrons of soldiers march before the Pope)

Soldier 1: Niól! | Sir!

Pope: Fa? | Yes?

Soldier 1: A religious cult has arrived at our borders. They threaten us with holy-

Soldier 2: Eh-

Soldier 1 (Face of great embarrassment): SHUT IT PRIVATE! Anyways, as I was saying, they threaten us with holy eggs.

Pope: Huh-hu-huah-

Soldier 2: Holy eggs, sir.

(After taking a menacing glance from the first soldier, soldier 2 backs off)

Pope: And are we to be threatened in any sort of way by these "holy" eggs?

Soldier 3: Yes, your humble tyrancy.

(Soldier 3 pulls out a shiny egg and chucks it in the Pope's face. The Pope falls over, twitching insanely fast. Suddenly thousands of felicitators swarm the area. If this was Minecraft, this would be the moment when the server crashes.)

Felicitators: FELICITS! FELICITS! FELICITS! FELICITS! THE TWO LEADERS ARE GONE! FELICITS!

Soldier 1 (Shocked look): Wh-what...you did this?

Soldier 3: Yes, I-

(Soldier 3 is interrupted as a half transparent figure approaches carried and surrounded by guards)

Figure (Half mumbling): Pretty soon they'll be asking me to make "All Modern-Day Countries Controlled by Grandese People"! Seriously though, I need some holy flour. NOW!!!! And Sar, please stop standing there. Your slouching irritates me.

(Sar frantically glances around before occupying himself with fighting off an insane felicitator)

Guard: Let's convert these citizens to Breaddhism! Please sing the holy worship!

All Guards: I praise you, O' holy Breddha, for the bread you cast;

Deep into the creases of Breaven;

I praise you, O' holy Breddha, for the crust you baked;

Within the oven of no distaste;

I praise you, O' holy Breddha, for the maps you made;

Displaying the wonder of multiple cultures;

And now, on April 23rd;

I give you my humblest of thanks;

For the times I was brought from starvation;

With bread, O' divine bread;

that brings out all the awing voices

Soldier 1: Wow, bravo, bravo, you really got me there. Pandars, unleash the traps!

(Suddenly a rain of arrows flies down upon the Breaddhists, but purposely missing them. Screaming, the Breaddhists give a couple last disgusted looks before leaving.)

Pandora: I'm sure GrandOldMan would hate for you guys to keep on mourning instead of fighting. Leave your pope, and come over to the Mediterranean to defeat the Empire of Turnbacktwo. Our small army gave hundreds of lives to capture Indonesia for you. I hope that you can fulfill your portion of the deal.

Soldier 1: Will do, Pandora. Load the cruisers with people! Fill the battleships with ammunition! Their time runs short!

Pandora (Disbelief): Ummm....wow.

(In almost an instant three nearby pandars desolve into tears. Everyone stares out at a battle-scene. The sky is filled with grey smoke. Fires rage in the distance.)

Pandar 1: I-I....how? I left my family so I could fight for my country. And what has become of them? Oh lord, please have mercy on us.

(The warships continue to advance. As the fleet passes Tunisia, local fishers stare at it with empty expressions. Later in the day, the fleet has caught sight of Sicily.)

Pandora: How could they? How could they?

(Pandora turns to face the crowd on the ship, Nobility.)

Pandora: Do you see what they have done to them, our people? They...they've burnt everything. THIS IS WHAT THE TURNBACKTWO EMPIRE DOES TO US. THIS IS OUR ENEMY! .... Today, we fight. Tomorrow, we stare down from the clouds, happy to have saved the Pandorians. And if that is what it takes, then so be it.

(The Pandars stand and warm up, with a newfound feeling oh hope)

Pandora (Muttering while walking away): Please, oh please. I hope I am not leading my men into a massacre. Let's see how well the Grandese can keep their promise.

(Switch to Soldier 1, who is temporarily in charge of the Grandese fleet. He is on a cruiser not surprisingly named GrandOldShip)

Private: Sir! We have spotted the Turnbacktwo destroyer, Watson XXIV!

Soldier 1: Engage fire, would you!

Private: I....I don't quite think that's a good idea. Their torpedoes are fully ready. If we go broadside, we're dead!

(Suddenly the ship creaks and lurches forward. Wood can be heard snapping.)

Soldiers Below Deck (Shouting): They've rammed into us!

(The ship is full of activity. Only a quarter of soldiers have been evacuated from the hull when the ship begins to sink. On top of the chaos, a hooded figure has jumped the amazing eight-foot gap between the two ships. He wields a ivory sword coated in centuries of blood, a weapon only a TBT of high ranks would be allowed to possess. After staring his enemies down for a few seconds, he leaps before Soldier 1.)

Soldier 1 (Snarling): Why does you emperor wish to expand? He already has colonies across multiple continents. Is that not enough?

Hooded Figure: Why does your emperor wish to expand? He has already killed thousands in his conquest. Is that not enough? ... I am a privateer, one with a strong family full of rulers. We have served Turnbacktwo since his nation began, and he relies on us more than he will ever know. You can call me JWatson, but certainly not "24", the dumb name that the emperor assigned to me by rank of command. Listen, is your army willing to sacrifice itself to safe its tiny allies?

(JWatson gestures at the hull, now halfway full. Screams emerge from its depths.)

JWatson: I think not. And I sense you are softer than GOM, and for that I ask you to surrender. We will save your remaining troops, but you will let us take Pandoria. The other option? We let your ship sink, and you with it.

(This whole time, Nobility has been advancing backwards. Right as Soldier 1 nods, several shells are shot, and in an instant Watson XXIV has exploded. Pandora himself has shot an arrow for JWatson's chest, but with instant reflexes, JWatson catches it and stabs it into Soldier 1's knee, crippling him.)

JWatson (Shouting into the distance): THE DESTROYER HAS SANK! MY SHIPS, COME ON OUT!

(Silence)

JWatson: MY SHIPS, COME ON OUT!

(Still Silence)

JWatson: COME OUT ALREADY, YOU ABSOLUTE FOOLS!

(Several hundred ships do appear from behind Sicily, but instead these are bearing Union Jacks and other various coat of arms from powerful European nations)

Voice: This is Prime Minister ZooTuber of the United Kingdom. Me and my companions have forced your army to surrender at sword point. The foolish actions of your selfish empire has cost you dearly, and we cannot afford them after receiving word of a possible virus outbreak in Wuhan, China. I am not on the Grandese side either, if you may have noticed most of their entire fleet was barricaded near Spanish waters.  Both people have conquering actions, and therefore both will pay.

(The Breaddha is showing locals a "All Modern-Day Countries Ever Controlled by Slavic People". They ask of him to make a version for Pandoria, which he kindly declines.)

Pandorian Man 1: And so the empire is no more.

Man 2: And so Europe has become hostile to GrandOldLand.

(Man 2 turns to Man 1 with worried eyes)

Man 2: It's only a matter of time before GrandOldLand attacks the U.S. And when that happens, the European countries will have to decide whether or not to protect their most powerful ally. We all know their choice. No matter how the battle plays out, at the end of the day, one country will be no more. And Pandoria is allied on the wrong side in the matter, Kirby.

Kirby: FaroPor, you fear. You fear too-

FaroPor: Buh-

Kirby (Clearing throat): You fear too much. We fought back the Ottomans alongside the Spanish. We signed the treaty of Palermo with Italy. Our last leader was of British descent. Those countries will not turn on us.

This story was very long, and I don't believe its length accomplished much. I had to work a lot for school which will be done in less than a month, so I apologize for such late release. I will be including Grandese in the next story, it's just trying to keep track of all of my JetPunk characters is unbearable enough. And that brings me to my next point.

I am in need of a co-author who, every week, is responsible for going through the story so far and plugging in my many JetPunk characters, both new and old. I begin writing GOL a week after the last release. If you wish to, politely inform me in the comments.